Hotel Pendragon
by TheFbrz
Summary: After pulling a prank at school, Merlin's mom punishes him by shipping him off to work with his Uncle Gaius at his resort for the summer. He thinks the summer is going to be a breeze, until the owner's son takes over his life. Set present day.
1. 1 Merlin

"I've come to conclusion that the best punishment is for you to go work with Uncle Gaius this summer."

Mom's words hit me like a train. Uncle Gaius is the manager for this five star resort about an hour from LA. Working with him would mean cleaning rooms or waiting tables, caddying or groundskeeping. It was probably the least appealing punishment of all time, especially considering what I did.

"Mom, I made it rain glitter, I didn't graffiti the school," I point out.

"Merlin, you could've been caught. You could've been found out. Do you know what would happen if that happened?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, I'd be a lab rat for the rest of my life." I've heard this speech a thousand times, and I know I'll hear it a thousand more times.

"You are going to Camelot, and that's final. Now go pack. Your plane leaves in the morning."

I grumble and go back upstairs. When she told me to make no plans for this summer, this is really not what I thought she meant. I stare at the pile of clean laundry on my desk chair. With my mind, I pick up the pile, pull out ten of my favorite shirts, and put them neatly in my bag. As I crack open a novel, several pairs of shorts and dress pants fly from my closet to my bag along with socks and underwear. I was fully packed for my trip in less than five minutes. Yet another perk of being telekinetic. Mentally tired from both the packing and the reading, I fall asleep easily about an hour later.

Mom wakes me up at six the next morning. I was really expecting to sleep in on my first day of summer. I sit up and tell her I'm getting up, but the moment she leaves, I lay back down and go back to sleep. Seconds later, a bucket of freezing cold water gets me up and out of bed in less than a fraction of a second. Well played, Mom. After I dry myself off, I get dressed and mentally prepare myself for my four hour flight. I grab my duffel bag and my backpack and head for the car.

On the way to the airport, Mom lectures me on what she expects me to gain from working at the Resort for the summer. She tells me that she'll miss me and that she expects to hear from me once a week. I basically ignore her the whole time. When she drops me off at airport, I'm thankful for the silence. Well, near silence. The sounds of people rushing around, announcements, and machinery are all comforting compared to her chewing me out all the time. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom more than anything, but sometimes she just gets on my nerves.

Security takes forever. They stop me, x-ray me, pat me down, AND bomb check me. I guess all pale, loner teenagers look like terrorists? Whatever. TSA logic. After an excruciatingly long time, I finally get to the gate. My flight doesn't board for another half hour, so I make myself comfortable and read my book. My cell phone sits in my backpack, pinging and pinging, but I ignore it. I don't have the patience or energy to deal with anyone this early. After what feels like five minutes, the boarding announcement comes. I shove my book back into my back and get on the plane. After the flight attendants' speech about safety and technology, the pilot announces that he's having some technical difficulties, which makes me feel SO much better about flying. Instead of wasting my energy worrying, I settle in and quickly fall asleep.

The plane is empty when I awake, except for the flight attendant gently shaking my shoulder. "Sir, we've landed. It's time for you to disembark."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Late night."

"I understand, sir," she's much too proper and friendly. It makes me uncomfortable. I get out of there as quickly as possible and make it to baggage claim right as they're taking my luggage off the carousel. Finally able to catch my breath for the first time since waking up, I look around for someone the hotel sent for me, but there's no one. Well, there is, but there's no one for me. I take a cab to the Pendragon and charge it to the emergency card Mom gave me.

The resort is beautiful. It's several stories tall with balconies looking out over the ocean and a few villas off to the side for VIP guests. When my cab pulls up, a bellhop and porter rush to open the door for me, but when they see I'm nobody important, they lose much of their enthusiasm but are still helpful and polite. "May I take your bags, sir? Do you know what room you'll be in?"

I hesitate. It's nice for someone to be polite instead of critical and mean for a change. "I'm the manager's nephew. I'll be working here for the summer."

The porter's smile falls. "I see. Well, come along." He leads me through the lobby to Uncle Gaius's office.

Gaius is sitting at his desk, his phone to his ear, typing on his computer. "...thank you, sir. I appreciate it. See you soon." Then hanging up: "Merlin! Look how you've grown up!"

"Hey, Uncle Gaius," I greet him. As he stands up, he knocks his glass of water off the desk. With my telekinesis, I catch it before it hits the floor and reverse the spill. Not a drop of water is anywhere but the glass. He gapes at me. "I guess Mom didn't mention it to you. I'm telekinetic. I can move things with my mind."

He stops and furrows his brow in thought. "Don't advertise that."

I nod. "I won't."

He leads me out of his office and down a nearby flight of stairs to the basement. "Here's the laundry...one of the kitchens...storage...etc...and here," he comes to a stop outside a regular hotel room door, "is where you'll be staying." Gaius unlocks the door and gives me the key. "There's a staff meeting at three. You will be there."

I nod again. "Of course. Is that all?"

Gaius looks down at his list for a moment. "Yeah, that's it. See you at three." He walks away, leaving me to my room.

I push the door open and realize that whatever I was expecting the room to be like, I was completely wrong. The room was a pretty good size. It had a bed, dresser, TV, closet, nightstand, an awkward abstract painting on the wall, typical weirdly patterned motel wallpaper. The bathroom was surprisingly nice. It's isn't difficult for me to decide that living here for the whole summer and working and get paid is going to be very manageable.


	2. 2 Arthur

It's a usual morning for me at the resort. I get up somewhat late and order my usual room service order. After breakfast, I wander around the hotel for a little while. My phone pings as I'm walking through the atrium.

Calendar Event  
U to Resort

I sigh. Dad's coming to the resort today. It's his first day here, which means Morgana and I have to have dinner with him, which is always an ordeal. His presence just annoys me. He almost always finds some fault with what I do or what I say or what I wear. It's a huge inconvenience. I miss the seasons when he flew around Europe in his private jet going to meetings and dinners with billionaires and diplomats. I try to find something to do so I can put off seeing him. I'm swimming laps in the pool when my dad finds me two hours later.

"Arthur, you're going to have to do something this summer," he tells me. "You're not just going to lie around the resort and do nothing."

"I swim," I tell him, wiping the water off my face. "And I play volleyball and basketball and surf. How is that _not _doing something?"

"Something productive," he insists. "And to make sure you keep being productive, I've made you the event planner for the summer. I've hired you a personal assistant all the way from Chicago."

"Dad, I don't need a job, and I don't need an assistant!" I exclaim, climbing out of the pool.

"You don't have a choice. It's happening," he confirms calmly.

"No, it's not," I repeat.

"You are my son and you will do as I say." He jabs his finger twice at the air.

I defiantly storm out of the pool area and back up to my room. In the hallway, I run into some dark-headed kid I've never seen before. I shove him against the wall. "Out of my way, plebeian." As I walk away from him, I trip over air and try to walk it off, but I hear him laughing at me. I break into a run and don't stop when I hit the stairs. I keep running all the way up to the penthouse suite that my sister and I share—one of only four in the entire resort.

I can't believe my dad expects me to have a job this summer. I knew it would happen eventually, but I honestly didn't think it would happen until college. What does an event planner even do? It just sounds like a lot of unnecessary work to me. Whoever this personal assistant person is, she's going to have a lot of work. I'm very good at delegating. If I keep her busy enough, I won't have to lift a finger. I might even get some action out of it, depending on who she is.

When I walk into the suite, Morgana is sitting on the couch with as her assistant, Gwen, rushes around the kitchen making lunch. Ignoring them, I go for a shower. When I come out, they're both munching on Gwen's famous chicken quesadillas. I snag one off the plate. Neither of them argues. They're quite used to me stealing their food.

"So you're taking over my job this season?" Morgana starts.

"Dad's making me," I tell her reluctantly as I take another bite of quesadilla. How the hell does Gwen get these to be so good?

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's not so bad. I did it for four summers."

"Yeah, but you like responsibility. I like the beach."

Gwen stifles a giggle and gets up to go do the dishes. Morgana smiles. "You'll be fine."

Narrowing my eyes at her, I take my quesadilla back to my room and eat it while I play Xbox for a bit to cool off. Maybe if I wait Dad out long enough, he'll forget about the event planner job and he'll just have someone else do it. I haven't even been playing for that long when my phone pings twice in a row with new text messages.

From: Morgana  
Don't forget dinner with Dad 7

From: U. Pendragon  
This job is happening. You are doing it. See you at seven.

I sigh and set the controller on my nightstand. I really don't have a choice about skipping dinner either. Lying on my bed, feeling sorry for myself, I fall asleep. When my alarm goes off at 6:30, I hit snooze and go back to sleep. At 6:45, I realize what the sound is, and I scramble out of bed.

Rushing to get ready, I comb some product into my hair and throw on the first button down, vest and pants I see, which are, luckily, presentable. I'm nearly running out of the room while I'm trying to get dressed. By the time I'm in the hallway, I'm running for the elevator whilst trying to tuck in my shirt, and tie my tie. Finally, when I reach the elevator, I get the chance to button my vest, roll up my sleeves a bit, and breathe. Before I get off, I check my hair using the mirrored ceiling. I run a hand through it so it doesn't look so stiff. A glance at my watch tells me it's 6:58. I'm still not going to make it in time.

6:59. The doors open to the lobby. I shove my hands deep into my pockets and walk quickly down the hall and into the atrium.

7:00. I can see the dining room. I walk faster. I can see Morgana sitting at the table which, of course, is the farthest back into the room.

7:01. I sit down in my seat with a grin. "You're late," Dad says with a scowl.

I apologize, "I was taking a nap. I got down here as quickly as I could."

"See that you get here on time next time," he emphasizes in his usual disappointed tone. Morgana glares at me.

A new waitress—I can tell because I haven't seen her before, and I know ALL the waitresses—comes to take our orders. We make polite small talk as we wait for out drinks. It's sick to sit here like this, to pretend we're such a great family. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and Morgana, but that doesn't make us a proper family. When the girl comes with our drinks (scotch for Dad; chocolate martini for Morgana, who just turned 21; lime Jarritos for me), she stumbles when she bumps into a nearby chair.

Time moves in slow motion as the martini tips toward me in a path that's going to inevitably end with irremovable chocolate stains all over my white shirt. Then, just like that, a busboy who I've also never seen before reaches out and catches the glass without spilling a drop. He sets it down in front of my sister, who looks as amazed as I feel.

* * *

**Hi friends. Sorry it took several days for me to update.**

**Please review.**


	3. 2 Merlin

After getting settled in my room, I head for the staff meeting. On my way there, an extremely angsty blond kid nearly runs me over in the hallway, and then yells at me. I trip him with my powers and am on my merry way. The staff meeting is full of a diverse set of characters. It pretty closely resembles a high school cafeteria in terms of cliques and separation. The valets all sit on the couch with their feet up on the coffee table, laughing about something. The wait staff all stands against the side wall with their hands behind their backs, talking quietly to one another. Maids sit at two round tables on the opposite side of the room talking to each other rapidly in a foreign language. Kitchen staff sits in front of the wait staff with their hands folded neatly on the table. Groundskeeping sits on the floor. The lifeguards are kicked back in a cluster of lounge chairs near the front.

That's when it dawns on me that I don't even know what I'll be doing this summer. Trying to look as normal as possible, I find a seat near the back. A few minutes later, a dark haired girl rushes into the room, frantically looking for a place to sit. Her gaze settles on the spot on the couch next to me. "Is it okay that I sit here?" she asks me quickly.

"Of course," I say, a bit startled. I scoot over a bit to make room for her.

"I'm Gwen." She sticks out her hand and introduces herself. "Live-in personal assistant to the Pendragon daughter. I almost forgot about this meeting."

"Merlin," I reply, shaking her hand. "Live-in…something. Gaius hasn't told me yet."

She laughs, "Nice to meet you. You'll know by the end of the meeting what you are. Probably a caddy or a busboy. Those are what they're really looking for this season."

"Busboy, I hope. I don't do outside very well. What's this all about anyway, this staff meeting?"

"Well, we have one at the end of every week. Gaius tells us anything we need to know for the weekend or the following week. This one, though, is to welcome the summer staff back. Granted, I've been here for so many summers, I just ignore the whole thing."

"How many—" Gaius cuts me off by starting his meeting. It's pretty boring, and I don't learn much that I couldn't have figured out on my own. When he dismisses everyone, I realize he still hasn't given me a job. I feel like a salmon swimming upstream as I try to get to Gaius while everyone else is trying to leave. "You didn't give me a job," I tell him when I finally reach him.

"Oh, of course. You're going to be bussing tables tonight. We'll see how you do with that and adjust accordingly," he explains. Then he finds me a uniform and sends me on my merry way.

The hotel restaurant doesn't open until five, so I have some time to kill. I look for Gwen so I can try talk to her a little more about what it's like working here, but I can't find her, so I change into my uniform and go sit in the dining room. One of the waitresses recruits me and teaches me how to fold the napkins into a complicated design. Shortly after, she disappears with one of the waiters. I don't mind, though. At least I have something to do now.

When dinner starts, I am banished to the kitchen's dish room for a bit, where one of the other busboys teaches me how to work the dish machine. I pick up on it pretty quickly. After a long while of washing pots and pans and other assorted cooking paraphernalia, someone sends me out to clear off tables. It's a pretty monotonous job, but I don't hate it. Doing this for the rest of the summer wouldn't be the end of the world, especially if I just get to hang around the resort between breakfast and dinner.

The evening wears on and I use my powers even though Gaius and mom both told me not to. When my bucket would get too heavy, I would make it float just enough to make it weightless, which wasn't hard. It came in especially usefully when I didn't want to touch trash. I still tried to hide them, though. To be exposed was something I just couldn't risk.

Around seven, the same douchebag that ran into me in the hallway earlier comes running into the dining room wearing a black shirt with a white vest and tie and sits down with this other girl who looks like could be his golddigging stepmother and a middle-aged-millionaire type. I watch him closely as I'm working, trying to figure out who he is. As their waitress walks back with their drinks, I get an idea. Using my powers, I trip the waitress, which isn't hard, seeing as she's already struggling to keep her balance on her own, and send the chocolate martini straight toward his back. I slow everything down a little bit to give me time to grab it and set it down in front of the girl, whose drink I assume it is because of just how girly a drink it is.

"Thank you, son," Millionaire says to me.

"Yeah, thanks," Douchebag says, actually looking quite relieved. "I guess I owe you one."

Golddigger just sits there looking shocked.

"No problem," I say slowly. "Anytime."

"Any…time?" Millionaire says slowly, awkwardly, turning to Douchebag.

"Um…sure…" I assure him apprehensively.

"I'm Uther Pendragon. This is my son, Arthur," Douchebag lifts his chin at me. "and my daughter, Morgana."

The girl—who is apparently not a golddigger—smiles at me. "Nice to meet you." Her voice sounds almost like bells and has a beautiful Irish accent.

I nod at her, anxious to get back to work.

"Dad, don't," Arthur warns his father.

"How would you like a job upgrade?" Mr. Pendragon offers. "It includes a pay raise."

"Dad, come on, not now," Arthur repeats.

"That sounds very manageable," I reply calmly.

Mr. Pendragon turns to his son. "Well, it looks like we've found you an assistant."

* * *

**Two updates in one day! Crazy right? Consider it a Christmas-in-July present.**

**I was super inspired today. The words just flowed like wine.**

**Okay, weirdness aside, I'd like to thank user lolanbq for helping me out with my characterization and keeping my crazy in check on this one.**

**Please review. Thanks. I love you all.**


	4. 3 Arthur

My thoughts when Dad makes that weird busboy my assistant basically consist of, _What why how don't please why what huh?_

I'll admit I thought that Dad would let the Event Planning job go, but he's being adamant about it.

"Dad, I don't need an assistant, and even if I did, it wouldn't be this loser," I remind him.

Morgana frowns. Dad glares at me. "It's happening. Get over it." The boy just looks nervous. Dad continues, "This boy seems to have your back more than you do."

"Based on what?" I exclaim. "His quick drink-grabbing reflexes? That's not even—"

"Arthur, don't start." Dad then turns to the boy. "Now what's your name, son?"

"Merlin," the boy answers quickly. "Merlin Emrys."

Dad nods. "I'll see to the change of your job status with Gaius. You start tomorrow morning."

Merlin nods. Dad turns to look at me expectantly.

"Ahm…how about in our room for breakfast at 9:30?" I look to Morgana to make sure that that's okay with her.

She smiles politely and nods approvingly.

"I'll be there, sir. Thank you very much."

Dad nods, dismissing him. Merlin smiles and returns to work. As soon as the boy is out of earshot, I pounce on Dad. "What were you thinking? That…rat…is not fit to assist me with anything. We don't even know who he is! He could be a thief…a murderer…someone looking for insider trading secrets…or worse!"

Our waitress comes with our food. Dad absentmindedly shakes his head at my argument as the waitress sets an enormous plate of linguini in front of him.

Morgana takes a sip of her drink and says, "Oh, stop being so melodramatic, Arthur. He's Gaius's nephew. He can't be THAT bad."

Her statement stops me in my tracks. "Wait, what?"

She nonchalantly continues as she cuts her salmon, "Merlin is Gaius's sister's boy. He's seventeen, going into his senior year, just like you. He's lovely."

"How do you even know?" I accuse her.

She takes another sip of her martini. "Gwen talked to him at the staff meeting. We did a little research after that."

"I'm telling you," Dad says as he takes a bite of pasta, "I hired him specifically. I don't know why he was bussing tables. I'm sure Gaius was just trying to give him something to do until his interview. A fallback of sorts."

I shake my head. I can't even believe what I'm hearing. Dad hired this kid without knowing if he was good for the job and allowed for him to still have a job even if he wasn't good for it? This is madness! This is the man that fired half the wait staff two years ago for tying half Windsors instead of full Windsors in their ties.

Unable to reply, I stay silent for the rest of the meal, pretending to be thoroughly engrossed in my chicken limón. Morgana and Dad talk about business and the weather. They both go through several drinks—Dad downs the last of his third Scotch rocks as dessert comes, Morgana takes her first sip of her fourth chocolate martini. I'm still nursing my second Jarritos, but I abandon it when the waitress sets a massive piece of my favorite chocolate cake in front of me. I quickly dig into it, while Dad and Morgana slowly start in on their bread pudding and cheesecake. They're barely into theirs by the time I'm completely finished with mine.

"Well, this has been lovely, but I have to go," I lie, speaking up for the first time in a while.

Morgana narrows her eyes at me for a moment. "I'll see you back in the room, then."

I fake a smile. "See you then."

"Goodnight, son," Dad says carelessly, waving his fork in my direction.

"Goodnight." I carefully lay my napkin on the table and walk out of the dining room.

There's a colorful assortment of people around the lobby atrium. Next to the fountain, there is a party of twenty-somethings in formal wear, all with drinks in hand. Walking through the hallway, there is a group of teens around my own age heading out to the pool area. Some of the boys are obviously looking to get laid tonight, teasing the girls, who aren't exactly resisting.

I wander around a bit before going outside. I get on my golf cart and just drive, out to the golf course, down the beach as far as the property goes, and up around the pool area. I finally park it and go to the bar by the pool. The bartender doesn't even try to card me. He just makes me a screwdriver.

"Whassup witchu, A'th?" Lancelot as he slides my drink across the bar to me.

"Family probs," I reply, taking a long drink. It burns a bit, but it feels great, a bit of a reminder that this is real life.

"Ahy see dat, suh. Doddy issuuues, eh?" I'm so used to Lancelot's Cajun accent that I completely understand his meaning. His odd pronunciations are strangely comforting to me.

"How could you tell?" I finish my drink. He sets a shot glass up on the bar.

"Well, y'aint ne'er faight wit de Leedy Morgana, but yer be cahnstintly faightin weeth ya faya." Lance pours the bourbon and sets the shot in front of me.

"Truer words were never spoken," I say, staring at the brown liquid for a moment before drinking it.

"Et'll bey aight, dahlen," he reminds me, pouring another shot.

"I've heard that before." I drink the second shot.

Before I know it, I'm thoroughly buzzed. Lancelot is wiping down the bar and closing up shop. It's past midnight. All the poolgoers have gone to bed. The restaurant has long since closed, but the hotel bar still has several patrons. As I head back to my room, I hear several parties going on. The bass thumps through the floor. I can feel it even through my shoes. I'm thankful, when I finally make it to my room, to fall into bed and instantly go to sleep.

* * *

**I'm SO sorry it took me so long to update. I feel so bad about it. :(**

**Between band camp (Kill me now. I'm so tired.) and visiting my dad in the hospital (Don't worry. He's okay; he came home yesterday.) and another million different things going on, I haven't had time until now.**

**I'm also sorry if Lancelot's accent bothers you. It was kind of a random idea. I wanted somebody to have a fun accent. If you read in phonetically, you should be able to understand it.**

**Please review! :)**


End file.
